A Straight Firewhiskey Night
by Andarte
Summary: Years after graduating, Hermione is living her life consumed with memories of a single moment. A moment that changed everything for her, and now she's forced to face it. AU/AR, Oneshot.


She was sitting in a booth in the corner of the bar, eyes lowered and paying attention only to the glass in front of her. Her chestnut hair was still bushy, but now resembled something closer to curls. Her skin was pale, looking like porcelain, and her lips were a rosy color that contradicted the hard expression in which she held them. Though five years had passed since the end of the war, there was no mistaking her for anyone but Hermione Granger.

Charlie wasn't one for subtlety, and made no attempt to hide his staring. The bartender walked over to where he sat and spoke under his breath. "She is here every night. Do you know her?"

"I used to," replied Charlie truthfully. It had been three years since his brother broke her heart. Who knew who she had become since?

The bartender nodded in understanding. "You can tell her mood by what she is drinking. If its something like a nice Chablis, her day wasn't too bad and you can have quite a nice conversation with her, though I haven't really seen her smile even on those days. If it's something mixed with liquor, then you are in for an earful. Just don't talk to her on a straight firewhiskey night. She'll start thinking of him, and she'll start to cry. On those nights, she blames her broken heart on every man in sight."

Charlie winced. He knew Ron had messed things up with her, but it must have been worse than he knew if Hermione was still in that kind of pain. "What's her drink of choice tonight?"

The bartender raised his eyebrow and gave him a look. "Firewhiskey. That is her third glass in an hour, and by the looks of it she's about ready for another."

"It's on me," said Charlie. "I'll take it to her."

The bartender shrugged and poured the drink. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

Grabbing the firewhiskey and his own drink, Charlie gathered his courage and walked over to where she sat. Her eyes widened when she noticed him approaching and started to fight back tears. It had been too long.

"Charlie..." she said softly, the pain in her voice making his heart ache.

"Hermione..." he said, then trailed off. What could he say that would make it all better?She scooted over to make room for him beside her. "I've missed you," she said.

"What happened, 'Mione?" he asked.

She sighed, and despite the firewhiskey her memories started flooding back to the surface of her mind. It _had_ been a long time, and it was past time she face them.

**_Five years earlier..._**

She and Ron had been having another of their fights that morning, and now she was sitting off in the corner of the Weasley's family room and he was somewhere else in the house, no doubt with a bottle of Ogden's.

Hermione had always considered herself to be above the crushes of most young girls, too mature to succumb to such volatile emotions. When she looked at the man who had just entered, she no longer felt above it all. She felt a chill go through her body, a heat begin to gather between her legs, and her mind raced with thoughts in an attempt to control her reaction. _Don't be afraid to look him in the eyes, but don't let yourself stare. Look at his face, Hermione, not his body. Gods, but he would look beautiful undressed. No...no... don't think like that. Don't think of him undressed._ It was an uphill battle, one that she felt herself losing.

She had this ideal man in the back of her mind, an image she would allow to surface from time to time when there was no one to interrupt her thoughts. He wouldn't be overly tall, but still taller than her by several inches so that she had to tilt her head up to look him in the eyes. His shoulders would be broad, and his arms muscular. She was proud of her own strength, and her ability to take care of herself, but still she wanted a man with whom she would always be made to feel safe. In her dreams his flesh was not perfect, but scarred and rough from the life he led. His hair she pictured as being something like Ron's was, but of a darker shade that hung down nearly to his shoulders, with eyes that were dark pools of emotion.

The man, still standing in the doorway, was that image. Their eyes locked for a moment, and she saw him start to smile. Molly Weasley had her arms around him in another minute. "Oh Charlie, my dear boy, I am so happy you made it. You're hair has gotten too long again though. You should take better care of your appearance."

"Nice to see you too, Mum," he said, a broad grin on his face. "I've missed you."

"Well, come in, dear," she told him, using the same tone she used on all of her children. "Come in and visit everyone. You've met Hermione, haven't you, dear?"

"I can't really say I have," he said, turning his attention back to Hermione. "We may have seen each other briefly in the past, but I wouldn't say we have ever truly met one another."

"It's nice to see you again, Charlie," Hermione said, rising from her chair and walking over to where he and his mother stood. "It's been awhile since I saw you at the Triwizard Tournament, and I have heard a great deal about you over the years."

A little while later Hermione was off searching for Ron. Who she found, however, was Charlie. Maybe it was how her thoughts had been earlier, or possibly the fact that he'd always been one to flirt with her, but the next thing she knew his lips were on hers and she was having a hard time finding the willpower to push him away. She did, eventually, but not under Ron walked in.

It had all been explained, and Charlie had taken full responsibility, but for the next three years she had never been able to escape it.

**_Present..._**

They had reminisced about the past years, and eventually touched on the subject they'd known was important from the beginning.

"And somehow," she was saying, "in the mess of things it created, Ron had taken the kiss as an excuse to sleep with as many slutty witches as would have him. And, given the fact he had begun playing quiddich professionally, there was no lack of slutty witches. At first I convinced myself that the signs I saw were all in my imagination, but soon enough he stopped even bothering to hide it. He thought I'd get over it, but in the end I decided just to get over him."

Charlie took a deep breath and looked her in the eyes. "I don't really know how to phrase this. The bartender implied you were in here because you couldn't quite get over an ex, but you're implying you are over him. Um... which..."

Hermione laughed. Not really at him, just, laughed. "That's the worst part. Sure, I'm angry at Ron for the stupid things he did, but the bad nights aren't because of him. It's because of this guy I hadn't seen in five years. He just kissed me, but somehow I've never gotten him out of my head."

"Oh," said Charlie, feeling slightly speechless. He quickly finished off his firewhiskey and signaled the bartender for another before he felt ready to speak. "So what kind of things to you think about this guy?"

"I wonder what could have been, had things happened differently," she answered truthfully. "What he is doing, and whether he has found anyone to make him happy. Should I ever get the courage to go see him, if it would be too late. I wonder if he ever thinks of me, or if I am forgotten."

"Hermione..." he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and pulling him close to her. "There is this girl I used to know. She was dated my brother but I went and kissed her anyway. He never forgave me, but I could never feel sorry for it. I can't get her out of my mind, and wonder if I imagined the passion with which she had kissed me back."

She looked up at him, eyes brightening with fresh tears. She didn't speak as he moved closer to her, and he finally took that as permission. His lips covered hers and moved slowly, savoring the softness and sweet taste of her lips. His hand fell to her hip and pulled her gently closer to him. Five years ago there had been caution and guilt in her kiss, but now she returned his efforts wholeheartedly.

Finally he broke away and studied the calm, happy expression on Hermione's face. "I guess I didn't imagine it."

"No. I wish it hadn't been there between us, but now there are no reasons left to lie." She spoke softly and carefully, but there was no ignoring the meaning in her words.

Charlie took out money enough to cover their tabs and apparated them quickly to the apartment where he was living. More words could wait. For now, he felt the need to make up for lost time. Time touching her, tasting her, and making her his own. Years earlier he may not have realized what it was he wanted, but after so long of feeling the loss of her there was no doubt in his mind.

"That night after Ron walked in on me kissing you," said Charlie in between kisses, "I kept thinking about what I would have done if we'd been left alone. Whether you would have allowed me to keep going, and all the ways I would push every thought of other men from even the farthest reaches in your mind. It's been a rare night since then that those thoughts haven't returned."

Hermione said nothing, merely groaning softly as she returned his kisses. She pressed her body more tightly against his, and allowed her hands to trail down the front of his shirt. She unbuttoned it slowly, running her hands over the smooth but scarred flesh. Breaking away from his lips, she traced his scars with her lips and kissed his neck softly.

Charlie's hands gripped her hips as he lifted her up and laid her gently on his bed. The feeling of having her body beneath his own was intoxicating, and he took full advantage of his position. He started removing her clothing as well, savoring every inch of her skin in turn.

Finally his control wavered, and he knew that later would be the time to make love to her slowly. For now he needed to be inside of her, and she made no protests as he used his wand to remove the rest of the clothing that separated them. Later that evening Charlie curled up beside her on his bed, holding her close to him. "We didn't imagine it. You're mine now."

* * *

_A/N: This fic is loosely based on the song "Straight Tequila Night" by country singer John Anderson. It was stuck in my mind one slow night at work and slowly this story started forming for me. It wouldn't leave me alone until I let myself type it up. It has been (only slightly) edited from its original form because I had some concern regarding suitability for this site -- I don't think it makes that much of a difference to the story though._


End file.
